With Wisdom Comes Pain With Pain Comes Beauty (ONE-SHOT!)
by XaoshiTheKuroTenshi
Summary: Italy managed to get himself into a mess: Amnesia. With a forgetful Italian, what's Germany to do? Get him back to normal of course! But what if Italy doesn't want to remember...? WARNING: GERITA, VERY SMALL hints of SPAMANO, mention of blood(yes some people are that sensitive), and OC Italy(In my head, Italy doesn't always have to be cluelessly happy).


**Hello Ladies and Gents of the fandom. I hope you liked my precious stories and I hope you like this one. I tried a different writing style this time, so I hope you liked it. This story is very much inspired by the doujinshi, Dolfin, and another fanfic I cannot recall at the moment. Enjoy! If you find you have some things you'd like to say to me, review or PM me.**

* * *

Light. That was the first thing I saw after I crushed the screaming alarm lying next to me. Grumbling, I turned my face towards my window. Slivers of light came peaking out from the said object and lit up my face as I woke up. Fucktastic. As I sat up, my whole body ached. I don't want to go anywhere today. The bed creaked as I got up off the bed and light continued to illuminate my face as I stood in silence. I stood there staring in wonder at the rays that shot at my straining eyes and I turned towards the mirror. What I saw was a cranky, fucking-grumpy, irritating Italian. Joy. Just another day in Spain. Suddenly, I remembered why I got up so early. Shit. Dashing for my closet, I strung together curse words and bumped my head on the fuckin' door.

I hate mornings.

It was a bright day. Nothing good about it except the fact that I get to see my brother for the first time in ages. As I was walking down the Germanic streets, I cringed. Why does the sun always have to be so damn bright? I don't understand...Why does my brother always spend so much time with that bastard too? I want to see his annoying face ever so often too...ugh."DAMN SUN IN THE DAMN POTATO BASTARDS COUNTRY!" I screamed. I continued my journey down his paved streets speeding with my awesome tomato-red sportscast. I hate Germans too. The sun continued to blare in face almost as much as my music from my car radio playing German music. My irritation levels continued to fluctuate until I finally pulled into his driveway and loudly slammed the door.

"HEY MI IDIOTA FRATELLO! WHERE ARE YOU?!" I screamed outside the potato bastard's house. The sun had begun to burn on my back and I decided I gave them long enough to respond. I slammed open Germany's door and noticed how the lights were all off, creating a gloomy, eerie atmosphere. "Umm...VENEZIANO?!" I called out into the house. Then I noticed the faint smell of burnt never lets his pasta go bad. Ever.

"Mio fratello?" I whispered out into the backness of the kitchen in fear. As I walked into the kitchen, I grabbed one of the hanging pans on the wall for protection. Did someone hurt fratello? Did someone kidnap him? Did fratello- oh Dio. As I turned the corner of the kitchen, I am attacked by the stench of blood. I drop my pan at the sight before me. "FRATELLO!" I screamed as my eyes befell my twin brother sprawled out on the ground passed out. "Oh Dio...oh Dio...help. Help! SOMEBODY HELP!" I screamed. My mind scrambled to find how to move my body until I heard the door creak open. "POTATO BASTARD?! Germany? Is that you?!" I freaked out as I rounded the corner out of the kitchen in a rush.  
Oh. It's Prussia.

"Oh...erm...guten täg Italien. Where is your brother? I brought him some-" I cute him off. "WHERE WERE YOU?! IL MIO FRATELLINO FA MALE! AIUTO! PER FAVORE!" I waved my hands around like a maniac and started crying. "Calm down and speak English please Romano." The potato bastard's brother tried. I stopped my frantic movement and glared the Prussian down vehemently. "VENEZIANO IS HURT YOU BASTARD!" My knees let out, and I hit the floor in a sitting position. "I need to help him...get...get help! Prussia help him!" I sobbed as I stared at a spot on the floor. Prussia was left stunned and motionless until I cried out his name in pure agony. He made a guttural nose of acknowledgement followed by him yanking his phone out of his jacket pocket and punching numbers into it.

As my sobbing died down, I could hear shouted German being exchanged across the phone. With a harsh snap, Gilbert closed his phone. "Where is he?" I heard from Gilbert's general direction. The kitchen. I need to tell him the kitchen. Why won't my mouth move? My voice won't make a sound! I had begun to hyperventilate at my lack of response. "Romano! Lovino! You are going to be just fine. I need you to calm down. Scheiße!" Gilbert shouted, only managing to freak me out even more. My world then went black.

* * *

"Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße!" I muttered in a nervous, raspy voice. I picked up the grumpy, passed out Italian and balanced him in my arms. I eventually made it all the way around the table to my destination: the couch. I gently placed the irritable man down and sprinted to the kitchen in a frenzy. What I saw almost paralyzed me. Almost. The warning from Romano somewhat prepared me for the worse, considering his actions. Italy's head was where all of the blood was coming from. It looked like he had fallen while he was cooking and had hit his head on something...but why? Why did he-?

A slam open came from the door followed by a gruff yell, "Where is Italy?!" I got up from my crouch next to Italy and looked over at my brother with a morbid look. "West...I need you to please stay calm. Italy needs to go to a hospital. We are waiting for a ambulance right now and Romano passed out from hyperventilating after I called. Can you stay by Italy while I wait outside?" I asked breathily. Germany expressed many emotions in a split second and then closed his eyes in order to slowly calm down. "Okay," was his gruff reply as I walked outside. A few minutes later, the ambulance arrived and carried the brothers in.

* * *

My eyes feel heavy. Someone is speaking in a soft, hushed voices with another. My head hurts so much, yet I'm not sure why. The more I feel that hand on mine the more I want to open my heavy eyes. Who in the world is holding my hand? Suddenly, my eyes give in to my willfulness and they shoot open. I instantly regretted it. The blinding white lights of the room combined with the sunlight were too bright for me to handle. I instantly squeeze my eyes shut in agony with a hum-kind of groan to follow. The voices reveled in that notice and got excited. The voices gradually got louder. I heard many shouts of 'Italy' and 'Mein Gott' and 'Mio Dio'. All of the sudden, the grip on my hand returned and was stronger than before.

I shot my eyes open again a little more used to the lights and tried to sit up. I got about halfway into the sitting position until my body gave out. I responded to this pain with a hiss. A blonde man with piercing blue eyes met my eyes. So he was the person gripping my hand...I also took note of the albino and sun-kissed Italian standing behind him in shock. It was then that I was bombarded with questions.

"What happened Italy?!"

"Why didn't you wake up earlier?"

"You dummkopf! Why didn't you tell me you didn't feel well?"

"Mio fratellino...are you feeling well?"

"Well sirs, while you all are all nice and happy, I have a job to do." The nurse nonchalantly stated as she shoved through the three men to check my vitals and apparently question me too."Okay Feliciano Vargas, I am your nurse Carolina and I will be your caretaker. Do you remember what happened to you?" The lady, Carolina, asked. I noticed the three men from earlier peering from behind her, curious as much as the nurse if not more.

"Who am I?" I genuinely asked. Carolina gave a face of understanding and pity and looked down. The three men behind her looked as though they would either pass out or burst out crying. "You are Feliciano Vargas, also known as the personification of Italy Veneziano. Do you know where you are right now?" Carolina continued. "I am in a hospital, but why?" I asked in a puzzled manner. The nurse had shifted her attention from me to the window as she stood. She explained, "You had an accident. According to what we observed, you were in the kitchen making something-"

"Pasta. I was making pasta...that's all I remember. All I remember is making pasta. Nothing before or after..." I responded.

"Yes. And while you were eating pasta, you passed out from heat stroke. At least that is what we think you passed out from...But we won't know that part right now!" She exclaimed. "Okay then, well, Feliciano, I will leave you to your company now. Thank you for answering my questions." She walked out.

I turned over to face my 'company'. The tan man was already sobbing and being dragged out by the albino man. The blond man just continued to stare in shock. "Um...Ciao. My name's Feliciano I guess. You are?" I tried making a conversation. The man just looked up at me with the biggest, glossiest, and saddest eyes on the planet (a/n not that Italy would know anyways because he lost his memories). "Italy..." He rasped out as a tear trickled down his face. He plopped down on the hospital chair and put his head in his hands. "My name is Ludwig. I am the personification of Germany and I'm your best friend." He sighed out. Why does he seem so distressed. Is it because of my memory loss? The way his glossy blond hair fell into his face seemed to strike a cord with me but I couldn't wrap my finger around it. "Who were the people in here earlier?" I asked in wonder. The one who was sobbing had my skin tone...

I looked over at the window due to 'Ludwig's' lack of response. I almost didn't expect him to respond into I heard a guttural sound that signaled the clearing of the throat. I decided I would probably want to hear this looking at the window and the birds outside. "The albino man is my bruder. The other man is your twin brother Lovino Vargas, also known as Italy Romano." He briefly explained.

The sun illuminated the leaves on the trees, leaving a glossy tint on the surface of the green extensions. The birds chirped, the cars honked, the church bells rang, and the leaves rustled with the wind. The blue sky was so clear and calm; the blue shade was so fascinating that I had begun to wonder if I could ever replicate it. "I see...you know? Did I used to paint?" I wondered aloud to the blond German. I turned my face to face him. The German's eyes widened and he found himself smiling at the German's enchanting smile. "Yes. You...always loved painting. Or writing, or singing. You loved all the fine arts." He answered.  
"Interesting." I replied. I wonder if I will ever remember my past...

"Hey German Bas- I mean Ludwig. The nurse said we can take him home on certain conditions." Lovino announced to the blond man. "Wow Lovi~ I'm proud of you. You didn't slip into your bad language habits." A tan man with curly brown hair commented as he walked in behind my 'brother'.

"Hello Lovino." I greeted simply but kindly.

"Hey Feli." Lovino morosely replied.

"Romano. What were those conditions?" Ludwig probed, cautious of what they had agreed to. "No," Lovino calmly stated as if correcting himself, "Actually just one condition. We have to have someone watching him 24/7. Then we can take him out." "Wait wait wait wait wait. What about Feli's memories? What about that?" Prussia asked, not amused by the sudden idea of walking out of the hospital with Italy disoriented. "Besides, he has been in a coma for a year. He probably can't even walk."  
"Well, we have to visit the hospital for rehab and such, but hey! We should be glad! Right Feli?" The tan man smiled down at me. I couldn't help but smile back, almost as though it were instinct. I looked up at the man's deep green eyes in awe. This man, I must have known him as well... Remember!

As soon as I tried to reach in and open the gate to my memories, I feel a sharp pang in my head, almost like a warning. "Italy? Are you okay?" The tan man asked. I looked up at him again and decided I would just ask this time. "Who are you?" I simply asked. "I know I know you well but my head hurts every time I try to remember..." I looked around and saw everyone's face turn sad. "Oh..." The man mumbled. "I am your big brother, the personification of Spain, also know as Antonio. Erm...excuse me." 'Antonio' dragged his feet as he exited the room like a kicked puppy.

"Well, come on Italy! Let's get going home." Romano stated.

"Um no. I'm sorry Romano, I want to take care of Italy." Germany butted in.

"Um, like, no bitch. I'm taking my brother with me." Lovino sassed back, clearly exasperated.

"No. West is right. Ita is coming with us." The albino added.

Hence chaos broke out.

In the end, Italy ended up going home with Germany and Prussia.

* * *

Italy, why? Why did you pass out? Why is it that of all things you have Amnesia? I looked around and saw Italy sleeping on the couch. Japan was busy reading one of those books—manga as I recall it—and nonchalantly turned a page; he was clearly pleased. "Japan." I addressed the country while staring at Italy. I could hear the sound of a book closing and rustling in the direction of Japan. "Yes, Germany-San?" Japan asked calmly. I continued to stare down the strands on Italy's head from afar as I asked, "Do you think Italy wanted to forget?" After a few minutes, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up at it's Japanese owner. He led me to the couch so that we could have a decent conversation; I sat down slowly. Hurriedly, I rushed in with, "Surely he didn't, right?" I looked over at Japan with hopeful eyes, yet I received no comfort. "Honestry Germany-San, he may havu wanted to forgetu somesing." Japan truthfully answered looking me dead in the eyes. I was about to respond until I heard soft, hum-like mumblings behind me. "Ger...ma...nia..." I heard. As I turned around, I was met with a half-lidded Italy looking at me tiredly. "Holy...Rome?" He sleepily asked.

Ha? Who is that? "Who?" I instantly asked. As soon as I spoke, the poor Italian shot up, fully awake. "What? Did I do something sir?" The Italian questioned with a tinge of fear. I released a sigh. "Haa, okay. Feli, do you want to make some pasta?" I asked in order to distract him. He flashed me a look of confusion and it slowly faded into one of recognition. "Okay." He simply replied as he got up and walked like a normal person to the kitchen.

"Japan. We need to fix him! Look! He acts nothing like the old Italy! He walks like normal, talks like normal, and thinks like normal! He almost forgot his precious pasta!" I stated with utmost concern. Japan looked over at me and calmly stated, "You have to remember Germany; you can't force people into things. If Italy wanted to forget, he will stay that way. We just have to have patience." I sharply glared at him. He doesn't understand. "But what am I supposed to do-" I was interrupted with a clash of pans and a thump of something hard hitting the ground. Me and Japan exchanged glances of concern no sooner than we were standing.

I raced to the kitchen and Italy was on the floor, luckily conscious. I kneeled down and huddled him close to my chest. Italy was trembling and shaking. "Italy, what-" I was interrupted by Italy suddenly screaming with tears streaming down his eyes. "GRANDPA! DON'T GO! HOLY ROME! OH DIO! DON'T LEAVE ME ALL ALONE! DON'T DIE! GERMANY DON'T! THE FLAMES! THE SCREAMS! NO!" Italy hysterically screeched and gripped his hair. He started sobbing. "No more! Leave me be! Go away...I want to be happy...please..." Then he passed out.

I gathered Italy in my arms and stood up. Me and Japan exchanged glances. "Ehem." I cleared my throat. Japan walked over to the forgotten pasta and turned off the heat. He looked back over at me. I responded with, "I think you were right." Then, I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. I passed paintings and artworks Italy made for me as I walked upstairs, through the halls, and into his room. He seemed so happy; how did I miss this? As I pondered, I gently laid Italy down on his bed and covered him up with blankets. He would probably get frustrated in the morning about still having worn his clothes to bed, but I won't be doing that for him.(a/n sorry no sweaty action here guys) I decided I should read a book until Italy wakes up. I let the pages flutter open as I held the book in a comfortable position. Slowly, no matter how entrancing the passage got, I grew sleepy from the sound of light breaths, the smell of pasta, and silence.

* * *

As I awoke, I felt something soft on my cheek. I nuzzled my cheek into the said object, I heard a familiar giggle followed by humming. Almost asleep, the object removed itself from my cheek and moved to my head. Curiosity won over my desire of rest and I opened my eyes. The soft object moved to cover my eyes and I couldn't see. Who was this? And what are they doing?—"Germany. Thank you."— Who would thank me? I slowly sat up and the object I realized was a hand moved itself away from my glassy orbs. "Italy." I spoke softly as a tear cascaded down my cheek. I looked up at Italy and noticed he had a tear escaping those deep brown orbs you just can't tear yourself away from. He responded again with, "I remember everything Germany. Thank you. I was selfish and I blocked out my memories."  
Wait. How does a country just block out their memories? "Italy..." I started.

He looked at me with understanding as he said, "You are probably thinking, 'how did he do that' right?" I shifted so that I was sitting Indian style and urged him to continue with a nod. I feel like I'm acting like a kid. No! I need to know. "You see, the water level rose to a dangerous level due to rain while I was cooking pasta a year ago." Italy looked towards the window and continued, "But that's not it. That just caused the pain to hurl over in pain and hit the ground." Italy examined the clouds continuously, entranced by their pearly white color shifting in the sky. He finished with, "I saw my whole life. All the memories came flushing pack in a flurry. I couldn't handle it—or rather—I didn't want to handle it. Instead, I blocked it out. Not only that, I didn't want to return to where those memories existed, so that's why I was in a coma." He sighed. Italy wrenched his face from the (apparently) fascinating view and back to me.

"Germany, I am back. For good. I won't be doing that again. I realize I have things I must bear as a country and my memories are one of those things." Italy looked contemplative. He hence smiled, "I can also cherish the ones with you like just now."

Wait, what? I looked up at the man in confusion. "What do yo-" Italy cut in with, "When you sleep. You are like a baby that needs pampering. I love it." Italy moved his hands to caress my cheek. What is happening? Italy whispered the words, "I love you Luddy." And my heart just stopped. No way. Like no way on Earth would Italy say such things to me...would he?

"I do. Even if you don't believe me, even if we are just friends, I will always love you." I just cried. Cried in Italy's arms and he in mine. I was his support, his pillar to hold up the roof of his memories. And he was my world. Thank you. I love you.

 _I always will._

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 **YAY! Awesome (in my eyes) ONESHOT of the flower couple! Review, like, or PM me. Input always encourages me.**


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